Remembered Past Long Forgotten
by witchinghour
Summary: Updated!! Vegeta wants Bulma to do something she's not ready to do...Slightly A/U


Remembered Past Long Forgotten

Remembered Past Long Forgotten

(Fanfic by Juu-chan.)

_Author's note: I know that Bulma's father was not like that, and that Vegeta is slightly OOC, but I had to try to make everything fit. Please review and tell me what you think. And I've seen a lot of untitled fics out there, so if you need help with a title, please write that in a review or something, because I have at least two pages full of titles, and I probably won't use them all! I will try to answer all reviews in a weekly update, but if I can't, then I'm sorry. If I update late, I've been either busy or gone. My friend reviewed this, so most of the added curse words were at her suggestion. Also, if your Internet name is the same as mine, I'm sorry, but I did not take this name from you. It's is after the DBZ character Juuhachigou. I do not own Juuhachigou, I just use the name Juu-chan because 18 is one of my favorite characters._

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, and I do not claim any of the characters in this fic. I do, however, claim the fic, because I wrote it. Do not sue, because I don't have any money, and because I already said DBZ IS NOT MINE!!!

"Woman, I showed you my past, now I want to see yours!" Vegeta all but shouted. His voice rang through the Capsule Corporation halls.

"I can't…" she whispered softly, on the verge of tears.

"Woman, you've set up some kind of mental shield around a small corner of your mind," Vegeta said, a little more quietly. "You helped me bear my past. Now let me help you with whatever is obviously hurting you."

"No…VEGETA, I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER THAT!!! I can't remember that…" The tears began to come, streaming quickly down her face. She was surprised at Vegeta's show of concern, but…she just couldn't do what he wanted her to do.

"Bulma…" For the first time, he said her name.

"It hurts too much," she whispered through her quiet sobs.

"Woman it can't have been that bad…"

"You don't know a thing about my past! How can you say it didn't hurt? Fine." She sighed deeply. She walked to a chair and all but collapsed into it. 

Vegeta could see her struggling to relax and sort through her memories to find what he wanted to see. He felt as though he owed her something. She had helped him with his past, now he would try to help her with hers.

"All right," she whispered, struggling now probably to keep the mental barrier that she had gradually set up around that portion of her mind down.

He slowly sent his mind out to hers and prodded at her memories, most of which he had already seen, trying to find the memory that she had just unlocked. He found it quickly and entered. What he saw shocked him. Pictures of someone who he guessed was a younger version of her father and a small girl with bright blue hair flashed before him, along with words. Now he knew why she was so stubborn, and why she seemed to get so angry, yet afraid at the some time, when someone raised their voice or insulted her, or raised their hand to strike her. Her father's abuse had made her that way. The girl was covered in huge bruises and deep cuts, and she had a small bandage around one hand. He bit back a gasp as he heard the words that her father was saying to her:

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"Whore…" "You're nothing but a useless bitch…" "Worthless idiot…" "Baka girl…" "You are such a baka…" "Bakayaro…" "…don't even know why you're still alive…" "…remedy that mistake…" 

He watched the man, her father, raise a knife to her throat. Or it would have been her throat, if she had still been 

there. Instead, he heard the sound of fast, heavy footsteps descending stairs. He pulled out her mind at that point, quickly yet gently. He'd seen all he needed to see. Probably more. 

As he removed himself from her mind, he saw the form beside him shaking violently, and for a moment he felt bad about having made her remember that. She'd told him, basically, that those memories were painful for her, but he'd made her remember them anyway. Slowly, he knelt beside her and gathered in his arms, holding her gently. He could feel the now complete bond stronger than ever because of the pain that she was in. He could make out, just barely, what she seemed to be repeating.

"No, no, no more…"

"Shhh, be quiet woman, it's all right."

"I told you. I told you I couldn't remember that," she whispered, her voice slightly cold. He knew he had hurt her. She rose out of his arms and headed towards her room leaving a surprised and concerned Vegeta behind.

Vegeta followed her quickly, worried beyond words of what she would do in her obvious distress. What he saw when he walked into her room shocked him: Bulma stood in front of her dresser, a knife at her wrist. She turned as she heard him enter, and her eyes were cold.

"What do you want?" Her tone was frigid.

"Woman…" Vegeta's voice was shaking violently. "Woman, don't do this."

"Why not? I have nothing to live for anymore."

"Yes you do, woman." He walked towards her. She didn't pull away as he placed his hand on her stomach; only pressed the knife a little more closely to her wrist. He shook his head slightly, then sent a small bit of energy into her body, just enough for her to be able to feel ki. He pressed her hand, the hand that didn't hold the knife, to her stomach.

She gasped as she felt the small ki.

"This is what you have to live for, Woman. This child and…and the fact that I love you." "Vegeta…" The knife clattered to the floor, and Bulma collapsed into a sobbing heap.

"Woman…" Vegeta said as he got down on his knees beside her, "I'm sorry."

She buried her head in his chest and sobbed helplessly. "Vegeta…I'm sorry…I can't be as strong…as you always are…as emotionless…I'm sorry…" Her body shook one more time as she fell asleep. Still, he watched the tears fall down her cheeks. He had upset her way too much this time. She had almost killed herself, and if she had, it would have been his fault. He had had a lot of blood on his hands; the blood of whole species', but if she had died, he would never have forgiven himself.

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Woman, I wish I were as strong as you think I am. 

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AN: Thanks for all the good reviews I've gotten to this story. It was sad, I know, but I wrote it when I was feeling depressed and I didn't feel like writing something cheerful. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it, and if yiou don't tehn that's not my fault! I tried! J 


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